Peace

Peace
A lake in Dromineer

Thursday 24 January 2013

A poem I wrote on new year's eve as 2013 was about to begin

Tomorrow is waiting 
Another new year now is near, but dark days are not over.
People dance and shout and cheer, though I am still wide awake and sober.
Sold out by the ones who lead, where must the people go now?
Obeying laws that make them small, doing only what they allow.
Cast adrift in the foolish throng, believing more lies, about some impending, vital gain,
And foolish talk of a shining future, without tragedy or pain.
 
 
Cover up this nonsense, and straighten out the past,
The end is nigh, it soon will come, this present cannot last.
Oh dark, deep night why do you cheat and kill the souls that feed you.
What will you do when comes the day that no one really needs you.
The scathing hour that passes on and leaves our dreams behind it,
A clever thought is washed away to where nobody seeks to find it.
 
 
A vision of pillars in empty halls, to comfort stupid minds.
Illusion comes and and confusions stare, while this grand deception blinds.
Cover now this thinking, for dawn is almost here.
"And is there hope?" you ask of me, as crippled friends draw near.
The past still haunts me, it hurts sometimes, to think of all the waste,
I tried every fruit within my reach, some were sweet, some were bitter to taste.
 
 
Am I saved or am I lost? Did I sell myself too cheap?
It's all the same, in loss and gain, when you are in too deep.
Free the light for all to see, give up this wounded pride.
I felt the fire, how fierce it burned, while a dagger pierced my side.
Some friends were false, and some were fools and left me badly shaken.
It's not the first time, nor perhaps the last, that I have been mistaken.
 
 
Did I learn too much or not enough, to heal the ones I shattered,
I wonder now was my life complete? Did I do what really mattered?
Oh come old friend lets talk a while of better times gone by,
When we were young and full of fun, oh don't the years just fly.

2 comments:

  1. Well said James, great poem.

    Sheriff.

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    Replies
    1. Thanks Michael kind of you to stop by we'll scribble on
      regardless

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